Water

Water has long been an issue in Cochabamba. The town is naturally dry, and population growth over the last several decades has far outstripped the local water supply. Most interesting, as Olivera's book details, are the conflicts over water in Cochabamba. Water is seen not only as a natural resource but also as a basic right, something that the urban poor in Cochabamba believe is part of the nation's property, not a commodity to sell or profit from.

In local communities throughout the southern zone of the city, cooperatives have formed to manage water for local residents. These cooperatives preceded the Water War in Cochabamba. They enable community residents to participate directly in the decision-making around how this valuable resources will be distributed in their neighborhoods. This can mean, at times, that some benefit from it while others don't - a topic I explored in my book on Villa Sebastián Pagador. Another perspective on water cooperatives and their operation in Cochabamba today can be found in this recent article, which is also about Villa Pagador. 

One of the more disturbing and disappointing bits of news to come out recently has been the accusation, made by Israeli intelligence sources, that Bolivia and Venezuela are selling uranium to Iran. The alliance between Bolivia and Iran is well known and quite public - building ties with governments antagonistic to the United States is part of Evo's (and Chavez's) effort to develop ties to other nations, and so create new possibilities for trade and diplomacy that don't include the colossus of the north. But the relationship with Iran is troubling in many ways. Ahmedinijad, of course, is an idiot, a Holocaust denier, and a wild card who does not contribute in any positive way toward peace or stability in the Middle East. He may also be on his way out, with an election in Iran upcoming. If Bolivia is supplying uranium to what might be an Iranian nuclear program, it is positioning itself as a facilitator of further conflict and uncertainty worldwide, which certainly doesn't benefit Bolivia or Evo's other initiatives there.

Bolivia, for its part, vehemently denies producing or selling uranium to anyone, including Iran. Let's hope this is true.

Global Futbol Initiative

This summer, Rutgers in Bolivia is partnering with the Global Futbol Initiative, an organization that provides free soccer gear to kids in Latin America and elsewhere around the world. They will be providing us with soccer balls, which we will take to Bolivia and donate to children in the orphanage, and in the barrio in which we will be working.

The Global Futbol Initiative belives in the power of futbol "to impact change, promote peace, and improve the quality of life. 

"The power and beauty of futbol is a truly global phenomena and there is a tremendous opportunity for much of the world to use their resources to aid less privileged areas. Global Futbol Initiative was enacted on the basis of a very ambitious goal to allow every single child on earth to have access to balls, boots, and other gear. 

"We believe in our motto 'Futbol 4 Everyone' and intend on doing as much as we possibly can to help people all around the world enjoy the beautiful game with the proper equipment. The task is tough, but we believe we can accomplish all of our goals."

RU-Bolivia, the Fundación Pro Justicia, and the Global Futbol Initiative look forward to a long and fruitful collaboration.

Staying connected

When I first went to Bolivia in 1993, the internet did not exist. No such thing as email. No Facebook. No Twitter. No cyberspace at all. To stay in touch with folks back home, I had to write letters (imagine! Prehistoric). I would take my handwritten pieces to the post office and mail them off, hoping they would reach their destination. To receive mail I rented a postal box and would periodically check it, unlocking it with my tiny little key, hoping to get a letter from home.

How different things are now, in such a short period of time. Today I can remain in instant contact with my friends in Bolivia, and when there, with my family and friends at home. Many places have wireless connections, and there is an internet café on every corner. Cochabamba is fully of the technologically modern world.

Which makes the isolation of the marginal barrios so telling. No internet, of course, but not even land lines for the telephones. There are cell phones, and everyone has one, but no public utilities to link people to the rest of the city, the country, the world. To be connected, like so much else in people's lives, is an individual responsibility.

On not drinking coffee

Of all the drugs to claim our addiction, caffeine is one of the hardest to break. It's not because the drug itself is so powerful - we tend to think, with our pharmaceutically determinist view, that the substance itself is the key factor in creating our dependency. The caffeine is certainly part of what drives our addiction to coffee, but not the whole of it. It is also the circumstantial dimension, what an anthropologist might call the context of coffee drinking, that gives it such a powerful hook. The ritual of brewing and then consuming the coffee, the rich smell and warmth of it on a cold morning, the routine of having that cup upon getting out of bed - these are the elements of addiction that seem so benign and yet hold such power over us, controlling our lives and decisions, orienting our daily routines, exerting influence on our physiology and emotions.

I have been coffee free for years now, and yet I still, on occasion, long for a cup. I certainly drank coffee in Bolivia, back in the day, but always Nescafé. People think, oh, South America, they must have really good coffee there. But no - Bolivia doesn't really produce coffee, and what is produced elsewhere on the continent is reserved for export to foreign markets and gourmet coffee bars. People in coffee-producing countries drink crap: freeze-dried, the worst of the worst. The kind of coffee made from "flavor crystals," that upon dissolving in hot water  leaves a white foam floating on the surface, like effluent. "No es café,"people call it, a play on Nescafé, which dominates the Bolivian coffee market. I used to drink the stuff every day. I even came to like it, testament to the addictive power of the drug and its seductive delivery system.  

Ozzie

It is Memorial Day weekend and I am at the shore. But Ozzie, poor guy, has to stay with the dog sitters. Actually, he loves it at the dog sitters, as he gets to play with other dogs and has none of his usual responsibilities (namely, trying to figure out what I want him to do). But I, for one, miss him. This separation is a kind of trial run for when I go to Bolivia. I have no idea how he will do without me, or I without him. We have been constant companions for the last six months. It will probably be difficult for both of us, though I may feel it more than he will.

For reflection

Part of our service-learning experience in Bolivia involves reflection: active thinking and writing about what we are seeing, feeling, experiencing while in this foreign place. There will be many new and strange things in Bolivia - new ways of doing things, different sets of expectations that people have, new tastes and smells (not all of them pleasant) - and the best way to face these is to be open to them, to be aware of them, and to think and write about your reactions to them. These are our reflections, and we will be writing them on a daily basis and sharing them once a week.

As a guide to reflecting, I present the following questions. Go buy yourself a notebook (any one will do, nothing too fancy) and start keeping a journal now, as I am keeping this blog. Get in the habit of writing every day. Think about things like:

- What are you most hoping to get from your Bolivia experience?

- What scares you the most?

- How do you think/hope this experience will change you?

- What don't you know now that you hope to know by the time you get home?

I will post other suggestions for reflection as our departure date nears.